Things I Learnt From You
by Pekenota14
Summary: AU: PHASE I: Young Phil Coulson is left in charge of 0-8-4 baby Skye. He eventually realizes he can't take care of her anymore and gives her to the St. Agnes orphanage. PHASE II: Skye, now 6, is given to the recently-arrived from Bahrain Melinda May. How will she handle her? One thing is sure, Skye will help May recovering from Bahrain's events.
1. Appreciate

**I decided to write this while we patiently wait for the new season, and to overcome what that finale was (so intense... God).**

**This is an AU-ish story, as I mention on the summary. Some Agents of SHIELD's characters will pop up on this fanfiction, such as Skye's teddy bear will have a peculiar name, Hill will appear as a teen in a further chapter, and so will May, twice actually (the second time May shows up there are some Philinda feels).**

**Review will always be very important. **

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Skye is 1-year-old

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**Appreciate life and its little things**

Phil Coulson sat at his office, only the light of a small lamp illuminating the room. His jacket rested on the back of his chair, his shirt's sleeves were rolled up, and his tie was loosened. His left leg was trotting in a continuous pace that he knew Skye loved.

Between trying to get her to sleep, Coulson worked hard to pay attention to the report he had been given. Even though it was supposed the baby that had to sleep, Skye was far more awake than Coulson was. Instead of sucking it, Skye was biting her pacifier and alternating between pulling Coulson's cheek and tugging on his ear.

"Ow!" Coulson wailed, gently loosening the grip of Skye's little hand of his cheek, which she pulled as if it were elastic, "No, Skye. That hurts."

It wasn't any worth telling her that. Skye entertained herself playing with the buttons of his shirt and tangling her hands in his tie. With one larger move, Skye unintentionally shook the pacifier out of her mouth. It fell over Coulson's lap, but as he was trotting his legs, it consequently fell on the floor. Skye began to tug his tie harder to get his attention, but all she got was a cuddle that kept her close to Coulson's chest.

"Dadda," she grumbled, hitting on his chest with her fist. "Dadda!"

Coulson was immersed in a particularly puzzling page of the report, trying to grasp all the information he could; he didn't even hear her calling him. He only let his eyes drift away from his work when she tried to climb down of his lap to grab the pacifier herself.

"What is it?" he asked, laying his eyes on her. "Oh, the binky," Coulson realized and looked at the floor, seeing the pacifier at his feet. He bent down and picked it up, mumbling about needing to "get this thing washed."

Coulson got up and adjusted Skye in his arms, crossing the short hall that connected the office room to the small living room, which led to the kitchen.

On his way, he commented, "I don't know why it's taking you so long to fall asleep today."

The agent flipped the switch and walked into the division, immediately marching to the sink. He grimaced, seeing the sink full of unwashed dishes. Coulson washed Skye's pacifier under the running water of the tap, but didn't quite get to put it in her mouth because she started leaning on the counter.

"Bo bo," she expressed, meaning the baby bottle.

"Want some milk, that it?" Skye answered Coulson the exact same way, still trying to grab the bottle. "Ok, go to the floor for a little while I prepare you a bottle."

Coulson washed the baby bottle, put a spoon of formula in it and added the water, before heating it in the microwave. Skye grabbed the baby bottle in one hand and held Coulson's hand with the other. As Coulson was walking back to the office room, Skye protested, trying to let go off him. She wanted to go to bed; actually, she wanted both of them to go to bed. She knew if Coulson would walk in there, he'd take her with him and he'd go to the report again and not pay attention to her.

"It's okay," he told her as he pointed the lamp, "let's just turn off the lights and go to bed."

Even though Coulson spoke the truth about turning off the lamp, his hand flew to the report and he took it with him to the bedroom. Skye led the way while drinking the milk. Once they got there, Coulson picked her up in his arms, put her inside of the crib at the foot of his bed, and sat there waiting for her to finish having her late-night meal.

Once Skye finished the bottle, she stood up in the crib, handing the empty baby bottle to Coulson. As soon as he took it from her hand, Skye wanted to climb out of the crib. "No. Skye sleeps in her bed, dadda sleeps in his bed."

"Dadda…" the baby girl whimpered, pouting.

It was a magical feeling hearing her finally calling him 'dadda'. How could he resist her brown eyes, glistening with tears, wanting to sleep in his bed? He sighed and put both the empty bottle and the report over on the bedside table and then walked to her, picking her up.

"Alright, c'mere." Coulson put the pacifier in her mouth and pulled back the bed sheets, laying her on his bed. "Night-night now, Skye?"

Skye only nodded her head, curling up in a ball, ready to sleep. Coulson walked to the closet and removed his shirt and pants, staying in the sleeveless shirt he had on underneath and a pair of sweatpants. He was amazed to find that in less than the two minutes that it took him to change clothes and look back, Skye was already sleeping deeply.

Gently, Coulson lay in bed as well. The report could wait another day. He loved being a part of something big that protected people from the raising evilness of the world. But with Skye, he learnt to appreciate life's little things, and in that moment, he appreciated Skye's new name for him more than anything. 'Dadda'. He grinned.

Coulson was too tired and it didn't take him long to fall asleep as well. Skye was a ball of liveliness that drained all his energy. The last thing that crossed his mind before drifting to sleep was the memory of when he first met her. She was a tiny baby that was put on his arms, didn't appear to be able to cause harm. There was nothing that linked her to anyone or anything other than a small golden bracelet on her left wrist with 'Skye' on it. Coulson didn't know if it was her first name or her surname. It just simply fit her, somehow.

Skye was found by two agents, Lumley and his partner Avery. After the sudden death of his partner while protecting the two-month-old, the man ended up leaving Skye in an alley. At least Lumley dispatched the coordinates of Skye's location and warned that she was a 0-8-4. He claimed to be too stressed and ended up resigning from the agency and completely vanishing. A team of SHIELD's finest showed up at the scene; a 0-8-4 was a rare discovery, a human 0-8-4 was an even rarer one.

Coulson was at SHIELD's HQ when he was ordered to go to a laboratory facility of the agency. He found a team of scientists and doctors around the baby. She was human, but not entirely. Everyone was sure that she was something else, but something they hadn't been able to decipher just yet.

That was the mission that Director Fury gave him: he was supposed to look after Skye until SHIELD could find out what she was. He didn't know why he was given that mission, but he was so by the book that it never occurred to him to question the Director's decision. If Fury had chosen him, then he must be the right man for the job. He'd have a team of doctors available for him at any time; if anything out of the ordinary happened, he could easily call them and have them at his place in a matter of minutes. Fury gave him a new apartment to live in, right in the heart of DC. Coulson and Skye would need to be in a populous area to avoid attention and to easily evade an attack.

Coulson had never really handled a baby before, but he found no reason to panic. She was a 0-8-4; everything he needed was at his disposal thanks to SHIELD. No matter how silly it seemed, a team would show up to do any menial task for him at the push of a button. It turned out that Coulson didn't have to call as many times as he first imagined he'd call.

He had never handled a baby it was true, but mainly because of his life choices. He was told at the beginning of his training for SHIELD that he wouldn't be able to be like normal people, with dinners and holydays or a child's play to attend to. Skye allowed him to experience that in a certain way.

SHIELD's Director assured Coulson that he'd still work on missions and that the situation was only temporary. So far, ten months had gone by and he had only done three missions, all short-term and close to home. But he didn't mind. He found himself wanting to return home and be with Skye. He knew he was getting attached, but there wasn't anything he could really do about it. He even referred to himself as her father. Skye was only one year old, and if he had to hand her over, she was far too young to remember him anyway.

This was supposed to be a short-term mission, right?

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**Next chapters will be more 'fluid'; this one had to be like this to give you a bit of a back story.**


	2. On My Way To Work

**Your feedback has been amazing. Thank you.**

**I should have said that Skye's age progresses (slightly): she's 1 in chapter 1, in this chapter she's 2 and 1/2 and in chapter 3 she'll be 3. Then the action will take more time during ages 4, 5 and 6.**

**I forgot to mention before my amazing beta reader: InTheTARDISJustAsItShouldBe. **

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Skye is 2 and ½ -years-old

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**Don't live to work, work to live and enjoy it**

It wasn't any lie that Coulson admired SHIELD's director, who had been his SO. He followed each of his orders without questioning why. Coulson was a good man at heart; he was exactly what Fury wanted for an agency like the one he preceded in directorship. A man with strong principles, dedicated to a cause, hard working. Being so, he believed it was time for Coulson to be an SO himself.

His name was Clint Barton, and had been training at the agency for some months prior being put under Coulson's wing. He had worked a few missions with other SOs, but Barton didn't seem to blend well with them. Fury assigned Barton to Coulson the moment he was supposed to go on a big mission: track and kill a Russian spy that went by the name of Black Widow.

Coulson had read and reread those files countless times. He was still lost. Sure he admired Director Fury, and not meaning to give him any less credit, he believed that being someone's SO was easy. It was just giving the rules and making sure his trainee was obeying him.

It turned out that Coulson wasn't ready to give orders. And so he called Clint telling him exactly that.

"What are my orders, Sir?"

"Great question, Barton. I don't like to foist orders on people." Coulson looked at Skye playing with her toys on the floor of his office. She was his mission, and it wasn't his choice to determine it so. He knew he was stressed and that it wasn't her fault, but he was tired and grumpy of having to be in DC most of the time. He knew it wasn't her fault. "I believe an agent should be able to make his own decision, that it makes him a better agent, wouldn't you agree?"

"I agree, yes, but what's the point of this conversation?"

"I've read Widow's files countless times. She can be a very strong ally or a deadly enemy. It's your call; if you manage to bring her to our side, very well. If not, you know what to do."

"Understood, Sir. Anything else?"

"An extraction-"

Barton cut him off, "I don't need an extraction team. Everything that happens will be solely my responsibility. Trust me, Sir. I'll make the wisest choice."

"Alright, if that's your decision, so be it. I trust you. Still, I'll go over to HQ and leave that on reports."

"I'll make contact in two days, informing you on the mission's status."

"I'll be waiting on your call. Make the wisest choice, Barton, and return safely."

Once Coulson ended the call, he was feeling terrible. Not about Barton, he knew he was going to be alright. He was feeling awful for what he was thinking about Skye. The agent missed the action of the missions abroad and the thrill of excitement they conveyed him. But on the other hand, she had brought some calmness to his bustling life and allowed him to enjoy a close experience of what was a more homely lifestyle. She had no blame for his grumpiness and he felt he needed to make it right for her. Or to at least forgive himself for thinking such things about an innocent toddler like her.

Coulson sat on the floor next to Skye and started playing with her. She was happy and excited to have him play with her. Just then he realized that it had been days since he had gotten his thoughts off work and had done something relaxing.

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It seemed paradoxical but whenever Coulson and Skye were at the Triskelion and the little girl was submitted to tests, it was Coulson who hated it. Skye couldn't care less about being examined. All she had to do was be surrounded by nice doctors who put her inside funny machines and examined her as she peacefully entertained herself with a toy. She didn't even fuss. For her it was something as normal as waking up in the morning and having her dad around. Coulson on the other hand had his heart crushed, watching the doctors poking and prodding her. Sure, he wanted to know what she was and if she was alright, but she was just an unaware and unassuming little girl.

Coulson sat on a chair in front of Skye, who was on a gurney with an old, scribbled on notebook in her lap. He held a bunch of markers in his hands and she was doodling and babbling things to herself, lost in her fantasy world.

"Careful," Coulson advised as she was flipping through the scribbled pages of the notebook with such quickness and harshness that she nearly ripped the pages.

"Blue," the toddler demanded, stretching her hand out to Coulson, waiting for one of the many markers he held in his hand.

Coulson gave her the blue one but she didn't take it. Rather, she reached over to take from him the yellow marker instead.

"That's yellow, Skye."

"No, it's blue," she insisted through her babbles.

"Alright, blue it is." The agent looked around with a small smile, expecting someone to smile back at him.

One of the nurses, a young woman, smiled as she was approaching with a needle and signaled Coulson; he knew what to do. Once Skye resumed her doodling and realized the marker in her hand was indeed a color other than blue, she raised her eyes to Coulson with a disappointed expression on her face. Coulson offered Skye the right marker and sat next to her on the gurney, carefully stretching her arm out for the nurse to stick the needle in.

"That's a pretty drawing. What is it?" Coulson asked Skye, as a way to distract her from the needle being stuck in her arm.

"Me."

"That's you? You are blue?"

"Skye is blue."

Coulson suppressed a small chuckle; she was too young to tell the difference between her name and the actual sky. "You are right, sky is blue. And sun is yellow." Coulson smiled at Skye's expression; she had understood why she was confusing yellow with blue.

The nurse put the Band-Aid over the small needle prick and walked away with her blood samples. Coulson put the markers into his suit pocket and stood up.

Skye looked at him and asked, "We go now?"

"Yes." Coulson received from Skye the yellow marker, putting it in his pocket as well, and then picked her up. "We are going to the room with the big TVs."

Skye gave him a smile; she loved SHIELD's Operations room with all the big flashing screens.

Two years ago it had seemed unreal to see a fellow agent strolling through the Triskelion's corridors with a child in his arms, but now it was something normal. Coulson walked through busy corridors and Skye would occasionally wave her hand at people she had seen before. Everybody there would greet the little girl with a smile and she was always ecstatic with the fact that she knew so many people. When they arrived at the Operations room, Coulson stooped and let Skye lean his access card to the sensor so the door would open for both of them.

Coulson only had to wait a few minutes to get in contact with his trainee. "How is the situation, Barton?"

"I did what you asked of me, Sir." Clint made a brief pause before adding, "We'll arrive in DC in two days."

"Good job, Clint. I'll be waiting for the two of you when you arrive. Return safely."

"Yes, Sir."

Coulson breathed deeply as if some heavy burden had been lifted off his chest. He was so stressed that he was forgetting that he loves his job. He loved being a part of something big that protected people. But with Skye, he learnt to work to live rather than live to work.

Having nothing else to do at the Triskelion, Coulson started walking towards the exit.

When the two were out in the street again, Skye asked Coulson, "Can we get ice c'eam?"

"Sure. What ice cream do you want?"

"I want 'nilla ice c'eam, and choc'late ice c'eam, and st'awbewy ice c'eam and mint ice c'eam."

"You want a stomach ache, got it."

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**I mentioned the Triskelion's base as this base is in Virginia and Coulson and Skye are living in DC, and also because Coulson was dealing with Natasha's recruitment and it seemed intriguing for the action to develop there since it was Alexander Pierce's command center and we all know the implications he has with HYDRA, the Red Room and Russians, and therefore with Natasha and the Winter Soldier (details which are not relevant for this story, though it seemed appropriate to explain them).**

**Reviews are always appreciated. May makes a brief appears during the next (somewhat longer) chapter. **


	3. Say, say, say

**Hello, I'm back with a new chapter. I'm so happy that you guys are enjoying this fanfiction.**

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Skye is 3-years-old

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**Question everything**

Coulson was helping Skye dress in her pyjamas to go to bed when his phone rang. He ran to get it; night calls were never good thing. He was right. It was from SHIELD. Alexander Pierce himself was requesting Coulson's attendance to his office in the Triskelion; urgent matters that couldn't be discussed over the phone. As it was an urgent call, Coulson couldn't wait for an agent to come and stay with Skye, so he had to take her with him. He met her in her bedroom; she was already tucked to bed, even though she wasn't fully wearing her pyjamas.

"Sorry, Skye, but no sleeping," he said, uncovering her and stripping off her partial pyjamas while in the search for her clothes. "Dad has to go to SHIELD and you have to come."

"Why?"

"Because I got a call and we really have to go."

"Why?"

"Because we do," Coulson spoke hurriedly, trying to fit her inside her sweater. For some odd reason Skye was actively resisting, "Skye, can you please help me?" Skye pouted and folded her arms so that Coulson couldn't put her sweater on, "Don't be so grumpy, Skye. Come on, help me out. We have to leave."

After a few minutes of struggling, Coulson managed to dress her up, but she was still grumpy. He could understand that she was sleepy, but he had no other solution at the time. Once he had gathered his things, he turned and saw that Skye was going through her few toys.

"We don't have time to get a toy."

"Why?"

Coulson sighed and rubbed his forehead; Skye hadn't moved an inch from where she was standing. "We have to go." He walked with long strides to her and picked her up in his arms, despite her kicking. Before leaving, Coulson walked to the couch and picked up her brown teddy bear.

"You can take Leo."

Skye grabbed the teddy bear and threw it on the floor. Coulson bent down and picked it up anyway.

He made his way to the garage with quick steps and then put Skye on the ground as he looked for his badge, which he was hoping he hadn't forgotten in the apartment. "Get in Lola."

The toddler reluctantly opened the passenger's door and climbed onto the seat. Once Coulson had entered the car as well, he fastened Skye's seatbelt and activated Lola's hovering capability.

"Why you call her Lola?" the little girl asked.

"That was the name she had when she was given to me."

"Why?"

It was a short ride, but Skye was so grumpy and sleepy that she made sure to question everything that Coulson would – and wouldn't – answer. At some point, it turned quite bothersome. Coulson was already stressed out by the whole situation and Skye made it her top priority to, for lack of a better word, annoy him to death.

Skye's grumpiness had eased down once they arrived at the Triskelion, but she still fussed sleepily. Though Coulson's patience was wearing thin, he picked her up and carried her inside. She was a ball of constant energy, curious and smart, and he had learnt to live with it.

Before entering Pierce's office, he told her, "Now when we go in you must be quiet, ok, Skye? This is a very important thing dad has to do, alright?"

This time Skye didn't come up with another question and only nodded.

"I told you to come alone," Pierce said once he saw Skye.

"This was a last minute call, Sir. I had nobody to stay with her. Besides," Coulson sat Skye on the chair in front of Pierce's desk, "she's three-years-old; how much can she understand?"

Pierce had to agree with Coulson. That being the case, he began to explain why he was there. "There's a suspicious facility in Montreal, Canada, that SHIELD is taking particular interest in. We don't know much about it, but we'd like to know if it is one of Red Room's divisions. If it is, we need a plan to enter and dismantle their program. Fury keeps on bragging about how a great tactician you are, so prove it to me."

"The Red Room is a Soviet/KGB super-science division whose job is to make super-spies. The Black Widow - Natalia Romanoff - was one of the spies they trained. Why don't you ask her about it for more info?"

"We did, actually, but she says doesn't know. Can you blame her though? She was severely brainwashed multiple times, and so far has proven to be mentally unstable. Besides, she was nothing more than a pawn for the Soviets; she wouldn't know big bold moves like these." Pierce put a file over the desk, directly in front of Coulson, explaining the details. "The very little we do know about the facility is in there. Make it count, Coulson. Our tactical teams leave at 0400 today."

Coulson opened the file and saw that it contained no more than ten pages, most of it bad satellite images and approximate calculations of the dimensions of the site. What SHIELD knew was very little indeed, but what he was given access to was even less. The agent could only read 5 to 6 lines of a page, hidden between the thick black lines crossing out the rest of the document.

"Sir, I need more solid information, and considerably more time. I need to know what," Coulson brought attention to a page where only the header was visible, "this 'MK Ultra' is. I need to know what we are dealing with so I can develop a safe and effective plan for our agents."

"If you act like Fury leads people to believe you do, I don't see this being a problem, Agent Coulson." Pierce turned his back to Coulson and walked to the window, clearly ignoring what he had asked. "In two hours 5 tactical teams will be waiting for briefing in Operations."

Coulson sighed, closed the file, and called, "Come on, Skye, let's go."

Skye slid down from the chair she was sitting on and came to hold Coulson's hand as the two walked out of Pierce's office.

Once they were outside, Skye immediately asked, "Why he not tell you 'bout the mission?"

"Because only level 8 agents can know, and I'm only level 6."

"Why?"

"I don't know why I'm still level 6, Skye, but I'm working to be better." Coulson guided her to the elevator so the two could go down to the cafeteria. "And if one thing is sure, Skye, if I can't know, then there must be a good reason. I trust the system."

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There was only the two of them sitting at the cafeteria tables. Sometimes one person would walk in, but leave shortly after. Skye was still quiet but with an inquisitive look, paying attention to her father's concentration. He seemed upset and he was mumbling things to himself, flipping through the pages over and over again.

Coulson couldn't think of a plan. He didn't have solid information and he was sure that he wouldn't be able to come up with a plan of invasion that would be secure or successful. He didn't know, and apparently neither did SHIELD, what to expect. And so he came to the conclusion that, like Skye, he must ask the questions, even if he wasn't supposed to. He had to be curious for the sake of the agents that would go in on the offensive.

"I'm hungry."

"Hi hungry, I'm dad," Coulson joked as a way to relieve his own tension. Skye didn't find it half as amusing as he did. "You're hungry?" The girl replied with an affirmative nod. "Alright, so why don't we go grab something to eat?" He spared a glance at the greasy, tasteless cafeteria food. "I'm sure that there's a diner open nearby."

Coulson pulled out his phone to call an acquaintance he knew from town, sticking the file under his arm and walking hand in hand with Skye towards the car. They hopped in Lola and Coulson only had to drive for a few minutes before coming across an open diner.

They entered and chose a table at the end of the empty eatery, away from the windows. A short, blonde waitress came to take their order right away. Coulson asked for a cup of coffee and Skye wanted to eat chocolate pancakes, despite the late hour; Coulson exceptionally accepted it and the waitress left their table.

Once their order arrived, Coulson started, "A friend of dad's is coming. He's… he's a man like me, understand?"

"He's SHIELD too?" Skye spoke a little too loud, making Coulson almost cover her mouth with his hand, but once he looked at the waitress he realized she hadn't heard anything.

"No, he works for another agency. But you know what to do, don't you?"

Skye nodded her head while stuffing her mouth with the pancake. "Sing rweally loud in ma head."

Isaac Dewey, CIA, walked in, then. Suspiciously looking at every corner, he walked with small but quick steps towards Coulson. He was a tall man, black haired and icy-blue eyed, dressed in a full black-suit and shinning, polished shoes in the same color.

"Kinda late for you to call me, Phil."

"You owe me, no questions asked, Isaac." Coulson skipped the chitchat and presented him the file. "I need to know what you guys know about this." Dewey swallowed a ball of nervousness when he opened the file and read MK Ultra. Coulson realized it, "It's yours, isn't it?"

"Yes, it's ours," Dewey told him in a whisper. "What is your interest in it?"

"SHIELD wants to knock on the front door and say hello. They had me preparing the tactical operation, thinking this is a KGB base or something. They'll still want to know what is it that you do there; whatever it is, it got on our radars."

"I can't tell you that, Coulson. It will put me in great trouble." Coulson only gave him a look that disarmed Dewey; he'd get in trouble whether he'd speak or not. "Mind Control Ultra, that's what it is. We do human research operations, experimenting in the behavioral engineering of humans. We use numerous methodologies to manipulate people's mental states and alter brain functions. Most of them are conducted without the subjects' knowledge or consent. You can imagine if this gets out there –"

"I'll make sure to keep this a secret. Thanks for your time, Isaac."

The CIA man stared at Coulson, but he was completely focused on Skye already. Dewey got up and left and it didn't take long for Coulson and Skye to leave after the little one finished her pancakes.

It was time to brief the tactical teams when Coulson arrived at the Triskelion again. He found himself like a headless chicken, looking around; he wouldn't take Skye to Operations that day. He saw Agent May walking towards them, wearing a small smile on her face when her eyes met Coulson's.

"Hey," she greeted him with a discreet kiss on the cheek. "Here for the Montreal mission too? It's been a while since we last worked a mission together."

"I agree. I miss field action with you, May. But today I'm just the tactician guy."

"Well, see you in there, then."

Once May had entered Operations, Coulson felt his heart pounding slightly faster, but ignored it, saying to Skye, "Let's find someone to stay with you for a little."

He ended up leaving her with a geeky scientist who took her to the lab and showed her all the 'cool stuff', as she called it.

When Coulson entered the Operations room, everybody was waiting on him, including Pierce, who started, "Agent Phil Coulson was left in charge of tactical planning. He will brief you on today's Op."

"Um, no I won't." Pierce gave Coulson an icy glare, and he wouldn't put it past the superior agent to kill him right then and there. "MK Ultra is a CIA project, specializing on human behavior research. I don't think SHIELD wants to cause unnecessary trouble with the CIA, and not to mention with the Canadian government for trampling through their soil like that." Coulson ended saying, "I have a reliable contact in the CIA; I know for sure that my information is correct."

Pierce was still not pleased with Coulson's decision. "The mission is on hold until you receive further orders. You're all dismissed." All the Operation's agents walked out but Coulson, knowing that Pierce would want a few words with him. He was still really pissed at Coulson and told him with some asperity, "I thought you were Fury's lapdog."

"Even lapdogs learn new tricks," Coulson simply told him on his way out.

It was past 2 AM already when Coulson picked up Skye from the lab. She was still awake and still sleepy. They were going home but Coulson had to take her somewhere first. He got down on one knee and kept his arm around her waist as the two looked at the Wall of Valor.

"You know what this is, Skye?" The toddler shook her head, not knowing the answer. "This is the Wall of Valor. All these names here are the names of the agents of SHIELD who gave their lives in the service of humanity. They are heroes. If it wasn't for you and your immense curiosity, soon someone would be adding more names."

"What I do wrong?" Skye was saddened; she couldn't understand what she could have possibly done so that no more heroic names would be put on the wall.

"You did nothing wrong, Skye. You helped dad saving agents' lives."

"Daddy save the day," she cheered with a smile.

"Yes," Coulson got up on his feet and picked her up in arms, "daddy saved the day with your help."

Skye was only three-years-old. She couldn't tell the difference between number 6 and number 9, but she knew the difference between good and bad and could recite in detail Captain America's story. And that was all thanks to her father. "Daddy is a hero. Better than Captain America," she whispered as she succumbed to sleep, laying her head on his shoulder.

When he put her in the car, already sleeping, he cuddled Leo to her chest and drove home. They could both use the night of sleep.

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**On a little final note: the MK Ultra thing is all real.**


	4. Looking At Her

**Beta reader is having exams, so am I that's why uploading the story is taking a little longer. Still, enjoy this chapter. **

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Skye is 4 years old

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**Count your blessings and imagine your life without them**

'A longer term mission': that was both good and bad news for Coulson. If the assignment went according to plan, it would only take one week for Coulson and his partner, John Garrett, to come home.

One week was both too short and too long. It'd be so nice to be on a mission with his long-time mate, the two of them firing shots, kicking heads in, and sitting on the crappy motel room floor, doing whisky shots and laughing hysterically, half wasted. It'd be so awful to be away from his little girl, though. He'd miss the two of them playing cops and robbers in the living room, playing catch in the park and flipping through the channels as day unravelled into night, one having a glass of milk, the other a brandy.

Coulson took Skye for a walk in the park later that day. Between a hot dog and pushing her on the swings, he told her a few things about his mission. She was a smart girl, she understood its importance, but it didn't mean she liked it. For a couple of minutes she clung to his neck, asking him countless times how long the mission would take and telling him that she'd miss him. He also told her who would stay with her for the week: a SHIELD cadet from Operations. Coulson had to admit he was hesitant about the choice, but he had been told that the teenager was trustworthy and totally up for the task.

When they got home, Coulson cooked something quick for dinner while Skye watched TV. The two sat at the table, but Skye barely ate, choosing to stir her food around her plate with her fork instead. She supported her elbow on the table and propped her head on her hand. Eventually Coulson got her to reluctantly eat a bit of what she had on her plate before she left the kitchen and went to her bedroom. The agent found her sitting on her bed, in her pyjamas. He took notice of the book she had open on her lap as he picked up off the floor the scattered clothes she had stripped off.

"Where is it?" she asked.

Coulson sighed and took a seat next to her in bed. Skye cuddled to his chest when he took the World Atlas from her lap. "It's over here," he pointed, "Northern Ireland."

"It's far," she quietly whimpered.

"I know, but you'll see, a week will fly by." Coulson closed the book and got up. "How 'bout you get some sleep now?"

"Okay," she mumbled. "I don't wanna bother you. You have to get ready for the mission, right?"

Coulson chose not to answer her question and simply tucked her into bed. No matter what answer he gave her, she'd always be convinced that she'd be bothering him and wasting his time. The truth was that Coulson had already prepared everything for his mission a few days earlier, and he just wanted her to sleep so that leaving would be easier. He switched off the lights and walked to his office to double-check if he had packed everything he needed.

In no time he found himself back in Skye's bedroom, leaning on the doorframe, watching her sleep. He was feeling torn. Years before, he'd walk in and out of his house without any problem; he had nothing or no one he was attached to. But now, he was finding it so hard to simply have to say 'see you in a week'.

On the other hand, a little idiot voice deep inside him was telling him how much of a fool he was being: she was an unknown creature, and this was purely a mission. But then that idiot voice was hushed by his heart; it had been four years already. Maybe Skye's identity would always remain a mystery, but at least she'd be able to say that she had someone who cared for her. She would have had him.

A light knock on the front door reached Coulson's ears. When he opened it, he found a teenager standing there with a duffel bag, back straight and patiently waiting in soldier formation. Quickly, the teen snapped her head at him and showed a shy smile. Her long, straight, dark brown hair slightly swayed as she turned her head and her blue eyes focused on Coulson's.

He took a couple of seconds to deconstruct her persona: a bit sloppy, sentimentally attached to seemingly irrelevant objects, but serious and hard worker. She wore brand new jeans that contrasted with the old pair of black combat boots, and was swimming inside an over-sized jersey. The sport shirt was white, with a dark blue band at the bottom, followed by white, light blue and red stripes. The same pattern was repeated on the sleeves and collar of the jersey. It had no other marks or symbols, other than the team logo right in the center: a blue orca breaking through ice, teeth bared, forming the letter 'C'.

"Go Canucks," Coulson said with a small smile. The teenager looked down first, but then looked up at him and grinned upon Coulson's recognition for her beloved hockey team. "Come on in," the agent said, stepping back, allowing her to enter. "Phil Coulson," he introduced himself, stretching out his hand.

The teenager gave him a handshake and introduced herself as well. "Maria Hill."

"You can drop your bag over there," he pointed to an empty spot on the floor next to the couch. "There are some things I want to talk to you about before I leave."

"Thank you, Sir," the agent-to-be answered, placing the bag where he had told her to.

"And drop the 'Sir', it makes me feel old. I'm barely twice your age."

"Yes, S-" The word almost slipped from her mouth, but she stopped herself before saying it.

"Coulson, you can call me Coulson. Come with me," he said, guiding her to his office. "This will be a one week mission. I'm sure it will be hard on you taking care of a child for that long, but you have this," Coulson showed her a phone and a small piece of paper. "You dial this code and a SHIELD team gets here within minutes. Whatever trouble or difficulty you encounter, you can call them.

"Another thing, Leo the teddy bear; if Skye asks for it, you give it to her right then, no questions asked.

"Lola is my car. If Skye asks to take a ride in her, the answer is an absolute no. No one touches Lola. Ever. You can go anywhere you need to, take Skye anywhere she wants to go, but-"

"Not in Lola, got it," Maria finished for him. There was a brief pause while the teenager decided to ambiguously tell him, "So it's true what they say." Coulson looked at her, clearly demanding her to develop what she had started. "There's a story going around the Academy about a certain Agent that is extremely fond of a collectible, a 1962 Chevrolet Corvette named Lola. Turns out it's you."

"Lola's not just a collectible, you know. People tend to confuse the words new and improved. Tell you what: if you ever get to be a level 9 agent, I'll let you take Lola for a spin." Coulson started to walk out of the office and said to Maria who followed after him. "And about Lola's story, maybe one day the kids from the Academy will find a better story to tell. An actual story turned into an overly-exaggerated heroic myth."

(Years later SHIELD cadets would tell the heroic myth of The Cavalry. Coulson would just never imagine that the tragic story would be about a woman he valued so much.)

Coulson started to walk out of the office when Maria remembered something. "Maybe I should have told you earlier that Agent Garrett is downstairs. He said he didn't want you to make him wait."

The agent didn't seem to be bothered or rushed by the fact that his partner was waiting for him. In fact, as he walking to Skye's bedroom, he grumbled to himself, "When Garrett has someone to worry about other than himself I'll very gladly wait for him too. Otherwise he can shut his mouth and wait for me instead of complaining."

He put a kiss on Skye's head and ducked near her bed, stroking her hair. His posture was frozen and, even if in his head he had already gotten up and walked out the door, he was still there.

"Saying goodbye to the little ones is always hard."

Coulson looked back at Maria standing by the door. "What do you know about it?" He asked in a playful way. "You're seventeen and if you think your biological clock is ticking, tell it to stop."

"I have a family, left them way back in Vancouver, and it was toughest to say goodbye to my little brother. I've always wanted a sibling; my father always said he wanted a son. My parents had my brother when I was 14. Doesn't mean I love him any less because of his late arrival. My mother died during birth and my father hates my guts for that. Doesn't mean I don't love them because one is dead and the other has an irrational hate towards me." Maria sighed and looked away; she didn't know why she disclosed that. "I love my little brother and would do anything for him, so it was hard saying my goodbyes to him. I despise other kids, no offence, and no worries," she quickly mended, laying her eyes on Skye. "I'll take great care of her, but my little brother is… it was hard leaving him to come to SHIELD all alone, so… I understand how hard this must be for you."

Coulson offered a smile that cheered up the young woman. "What's his name?"

"Daniel."

"Well then, I can tell you that Daniel is very lucky to have you as a sister. Little piece of advice: sometimes you just have to take a minute, think of what you love the most and imagine your life without them. It makes coming home a priority. Sure it makes the wait more aching, but coming home turns into your main concern. Just don't over think."

Maria frowned. "Wasn't that what you were doing just now? Over thinking?"

The agent gazed the sleeping Skye and felt his heart tightening; he wanted to go on the mission but he also wanted to stay home. Coulson stood up and breathed in some air, lying to the cadet. "No, I wasn't over thinking." When he passed by her on the door, he added, "I was simply bidding farewell."

Once Coulson walked out the door with his own duffel bag, Hill went to the living room to unpack hers and prepare the couch to be her bed for the next week. In her bedroom, Skye noticed the silence around her and opened her eyes. Quietly, she got up from bed and walked to her father's bedroom to look out the window, since her bedroom didn't have one. She saw Coulson getting in the car and innocently waved her hand, even though she knew that her father wouldn't look up.

"See you in a week, daddy," she whispered before walking back to her bed.

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**Reviews are always appreciated.**

**Next chapter's actions are directly related to what happened in this chapter. Just a heads up.**


	5. Save Us

**You are all going to hate me a little in the beginning for what I did, but... things happen alright? This is not the first chapter where I've dropped subtle hints, and it won't be the last one.**

**This was supposed to be posted before I left for my last exam today, but I guess I forgot during the process of leaving home in a hurry! :)**

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Skye is 4-years-old

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**Don't expect perfection; you're perfect with all your flaws**

The symptoms that Coulson described over the phone weren't alarming. He complained about a constant feeling of sickness and an uncontrollable itchiness on his wound. He was told that someone would drive Dr. Streiten to his house to examine him if need be.

The mission in Northern Ireland with Garrett went smoothly until Coulson was hit. Garrett missed his target (though, he hadn't really, as Coulson would learn later on in his life) and it was Coulson that took the bullet. It was up to Garrett to finish up the mission as his partner was taken to SHIELD Trauma Zentrum in Switzerland. He stayed there for one week before being allowed to return to DC, even though the doctors wished he had stayed for a while more. The slug had lodged in his spleen and recovery was going to be a bit troubled.

It had been twenty minutes since Coulson had requested a SHIELD doctor to come over to his house. He sighed heavily, groping the chest of drawers in an attempt to drag his weighty, tired body to bed. His eyes were barely open and small drops of sweat continuously formed on his forehead that he wiped with the palm of his hand.

Lying in bed, facing up, Coulson felt like a nauseated and asthmatic kid on a rollercoaster trip; he was wheezing and the few contents of his stomach were climbing and descending his throat in an even further nauseating feeling. His hand was getting tired of frantically scratching the bandages on his abdomen. His whole body was feeling numb, his head was aching, his blood was furiously throbbing in the veins of his temple, and a constant rush of a thousand insignificant thoughts was going through his mind. Suddenly it was too cold, and then too hot again, and so the cycle progressed, leaving him desperate.

Tired of waiting, Coulson slowly put his feet back on the floor and walked to the window directly in front of his bed, to peer down at the street. It was the perfect timing, he realized, as he saw a car pulling over at the entrance of the building. Coulson watched the scene from the window of his bedroom with a small smile, the best one he could with his discomfort.

Twenty-year-old Natasha climbed out of the driver's side. Dr. Streiten poured himself out of the passenger's door. His posture was slightly crouched, his hand tightly grasping the door as he breathed in heavily, head lowered. Letting Natasha behind the wheel of a Corvette, speeding at 90 mph through the bustling arteries of DC was quite a ride. Coulson had experienced Natasha's driving himself. It was a breathtaking experience, literally breathtaking. A tad similar to what he was feeling at the moment, actually...

He couldn't tell the words that Natasha and the doctor exchanged, but given the fact that Natasha leaned on the car and the doctor made his way upstairs, Coulson guessed that Natasha said she'd wait for him there, or something along those lines.

The quick sound of the doorbell ringing came shortly after he had seen the doctor enter the building. Coulson pulled his body along the short hallway (that for him seemed to be a mile long) to open the door.

"Agent Coulson," the doctor greeted with an affable smile. "How are you feeling?"

"Like crap," the agent mumbled.

"That's good, agent," Streiten said as he followed Coulson to his bedroom.

"I sure feel good, doc," Coulson growled sarcastically. "As right as a trivet."

"Do you happen to know what the function the spleen is?"

Coulson groaned while battling against his own T-shirt; stripping it off had somehow become an arduous task. "I didn't take biology in school."

"The spleen mechanically filters and recycles red blood cells, stores platelets and white blood cells, and synthesizes antibodies, creating an active immune response. Feeling like crap," Doctor Streiten slightly changed his speech tone when he quoted Coulson; he didn't use that kind of colloquial language, "is a good thing, agent Coulson. It means your spleen is showing signs of a healthy recovery. And by healthy recovery I mean developing fever, constant feeling of sickness and" the man looked at Coulson's abdomen and noticed the bright red tone of his skin, a result of excessive scratching, " a cutaneous rash."

"So, all in all, it's great that I'm feeling like crap?"

"Yes, this is great news." Streiten signaled for Coulson to lie in bed, and the doctor began to remove the patch that covered his wound. "There's a bit of an allergic reaction around the staples, perfectly normal, but it could have been avoided if you had stayed in Switzerland. The doctors there could have used other treatment methodologies-"

Coulson immediately cut him off, "I was away for a week because of the mission and then spent another week in the hospital. I needed to come home, doctor."

"Because of the girl," the other man concluded the thought.

"Because of _my_ girl. But I'm very glad that SHIELD got some extra help for Hill, and that they lied to Skye about my delay in coming home." Streiten disinfected Coulson's wound and replaced the bandages as the agent carried on. "The last thing I want her to imagine is me killing people and getting injured."

"I'm sure she's heard about war."

"We both know that we don't fight those wars. We go into more dangerous wars, the wars that others can't fight. We never know what to expect or what the outcome will be."

"A bit similar to your assignment, agent," the doctor dropped the hint. "Like you said, we never know what to expect or what the outcome will be." And then he dropped the bomb, "You shouldn't let yourself get attached."

"Four years doc, I think talking about getting attached by now is a bit overrated."

As the doctor administrated him some antibiotics to help settle down his extreme immune response, he asked, "Where is she, by the way? The girl."

"Taking a nap in her…" Coulson completely froze as his eyes caught a glimpse of Skye outside his bedroom, apparently having been there for a while now.

Funny how children take notice of the little details first, before anything else. Skye was awakened by the conversation that Coulson and Streiten had kept reasonably quiet. She didn't know who the doctor was, but didn't bother to know him. She was too focused on the bandage on her father's chest.

"Well," the doctor poorly excused himself, "if this is all, I'll take my leave now. Anything happens, you call me."

"Yes, of course," Coulson replied, still looking at Skye.

She took a few steps back, allowing the doctor to leave the bedroom. She was apprehensively looking at Coulson, and once the doctor left the apartment, she walked to the side of his bed. It wasn't the first time Coulson had been injured, but it was the first time he'd get a scar.

"It hurts?" Skye asked, her eyes swimming with tears.

"Come here," Coulson beckoned her, pulling her carefully onto his lap. "No, it doesn't hurt anymore. For how long have you been at the door?"

Skye shrugged and then told him, "You talkeded about war and killin' people and gettin' hurt."

Coulson sighed. "That… What do you think of dad now? That I'm mean because I hurt other people?"

"You fight bad guys. You're the good guy."

"So you think that I'm weak, then? Because I get hurt?"

"No…" Skye wrapped her arms around his neck and hugged him tightly. "You're dad."

"Thank you, baby girl," Coulson said, holding back his tears. "Dad needed that."

Children's thoughts and judgments are the simplest and most honest thing in the world. 'You're dad'. That seemed to be more than enough for Skye.

Despite his flaws and virtues, despite the times he'd spend having fun with her or the times he'd have to reprimand her for something or be serious, he was her dad. Despite good and bad, he was still dad.

Dads are most ordinary men turned by love into heroes, adventurers, story-tellers and singers of songs.

And for Skye, he was perfect.

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**Reviews are always nice and you guys are the best are giving them.**

**Teaser for next chapter: Skye learns the meaning of the word 'adopted' because of the other kids at school (kindergarten).**

**P.S: I'm soon starting to post a new Agents of SHIELD fanfiction.**


	6. Ever Present Past

**Really, really sorry for taking so long to update.**

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Skye is 5-years-old

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**Be who you are and don't let anyone judge you**

The clock read 7:00 and Coulson had been up for half an hour now, exercising in a small room that he had reserved for his workout sessions. With Skye enrolled in school, he had more time for that; he'd even leave for a long run after dropping her off at kindergarten. By now he was on his third round of pull-ups, and he was sweating profusely. Between his pull-ups he had seen that Skye was sitting in the hall, back resting against the wall, watching him working out on the pull-up bar.

"48… 49… 50," Coulson said between breaths and then exhaled thoroughly as he put his feet back on the floor. While wiping the sweat from his face and neck, he joked, "Since you like watching me workout, maybe I should put a pull-up bar on your bedroom door, so you can do some pull-ups too."

"Uhm, no thanks," Skye shook her head. "I like my arms attached to my body."

Coulson had to chuckle, but he couldn't claim that her witty response of had come from him. That must have been something she picked up from one of the many movies the two of them watched together.

"You gonna do sit-ups now?" Skye asked.

"I was going to, but I'm assuming that if you're sitting there it's because you want breakfast."

Skye tumbled to her side, lying on the floor with her head resting over her arm, and let the words drag in her throat, "Yes, I'm starving." She purposely made it sound really dramatic, as if death would strike her at any second.

"Let's get you some breakfast then, before you starve to death."

Coulson didn't have to say anything else. Skye got up quickly and ran to the kitchen, took a seat on her chair and patiently waited for her father to show up. The agent began to prepare some coffee for himself, and in the meantime, he served Skye a bowl of cereal and a glass of juice. While Coulson was still scouring through the cabinets to find an energy bar, Skye was already stuffing her mouth with a spoonful of cereal, the milk dripping from the corner of her mouth.

"Dad," she asked almost at the same time she swallowed, "what 'adopted' means?"

"It means," Coulson was still on a desperate hunt for grabbing something to eat, "taking something that doesn't belong to you and accept it as yours. Why do you ask?"

"The other kids at school say I'm adopted."

That question caught him so off guard that he hurt his finger while closing the cabinet door. He wasn't ready for that day to come; in fact, he never believed that day would actually come. Coulson always thought that Skye would be gone before she could even get up and start walking.

Coulson took a deep sigh and forgot about his breakfast. He pulled a chair closer to Skye and began very nervously, "I need to tell you something really important and I need you to understand it really well… Remember when you asked me why you don't have a mother and I didn't answer?" She nodded. "Well, the truth is that I'm not your father either. I adopted you. SHIELD found you when you were a little baby, abandoned. I don't know who your parents are, where they are, why they left you. All I know is that you didn't belong to me, and I accept you as mine. That's why you have no mother or any other family member like all the other boys and girls have. It's just you and me, Skye. And I know this is a lot to understand, but there are many boys and girls out there who don't have a family, but you have me."

The agent gave her a minute to think as a ton of desperate thoughts were running through his mind. He was ready for the worst case scenario, for the tantrums and the anger. Skye would hate him, of course she would. Everything he had ever told her was a lie: he wasn't her father. He had destroyed all the faith in humanity that a five-year-old could possibly have. SHIELD didn't know if she had superhuman powers – actually they knew nothing about her now that five years had gone by. If she turned into a villain and destroyed half the world when she grew up, Coulson would forever blame himself for having shattered her heart when she was young.

"So, you and SHIELD take care of me all along? Even when my real mom and dad leave me alone?"

"Yes, SHIELD has always taken good care of you. And hopefully I have taken good care of you as well. I know you'll probably hate me-"

"So SHIELD is my family, right?" the girl said, not even letting him finish.

Coulson said with a sigh, "Of course SHIELD's your family. Silly me. You have a big family, bigger than all of your friends' families put together."

Skye was aware that Coulson was a complete mess and decided to fix him with a hug. "I don't have a mom or a brother or a sister, but I have you, daddy."

Coulson managed to let out a relieved breath, but he still wasn't totally convinced; maybe she was just too young to understand. But Skye understood him perfectly and took away the most important thing from what Coulson told her: it wasn't about the family she'd never have, but the one she'd always had. She had a father, and she had SHIELD.

"You stink a bit because of the sweat."

"That was not cool, Skye." He pretended to pout. "I don't sweat, I glisten. Now finish your breakfast."

Coulson sat Skye back in her chair and got up to grab his cup of coffee. Skye had only eaten one spoon of cereal before she covered her mouth with her hand and giggled. Her father had been throwing her some sulky glances, as if he was an upset little kid.

"You're angry, dad?"

"A bit, yes," he answered, taking a sip of his coffee.

She cheekily asked, teasing him, "Angry enough to put a pull-up bar on my door?"

"Angry enough that I might put a pull-up bar in your door."

Skye filled her chest with air and said with the biggest enthusiasm she could fake. "You're glistening, dad!"

"Amazing performance, Skye. You are a great actress."

"Are you still gonna put the bar on the door?"

Coulson smiled as he started to walk out of the kitchen. He didn't answer her.

"Is it a yes or a no?"

Coulson backed up a few steps and told her, "It's a 'hurry up because you still have to get dressed and brush your teeth'. Today's a school day, cheeky monkey."

"Okie dokie, dad. You're the boss."

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**Reviews if you liked it. New chapter might be uploaded soon... don't know, depends on my beta reader.**

**Teaser for next (really long) chapter: May makes an appearance, from beginning to end of the chapter... if you like her and her interactions with Coulson then you'll like the next chapter.**


	7. New

**Finally got this chapter back. Hope you guys enjoy it.**

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Skye is 5-years-old

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**No lame excuses**

The Lancaster's were a couple that lived in the apartment below Coulson and Skye. They were in their seventies, but still full of life. William had fought in World War II and Evelyn was a nurse who had been sent to help the soldiers overseas. That was how they had met. Coulson trusted the two of them to look after Skye if anything was to come up. The two knew that Coulson worked for an Agency, but they didn't know exactly which one, though William had his suspicions that it was SHIELD.

William was a man with a face marked with blemishes and age spots. He had a snowy-white goatee and always had a newspaper opened to the crossword page, a pen in hand. Though, it was usually left incomplete; most of his time was spent on the armchair, napping. His bleached and tired blue eyes were still as darting and attuned with perfect aim was they were when he was younger. William still had the gun with which he proudly said to have killed at least a hundred Nazis with. He had also shaken hands with the great Captain America once, but he didn't exactly remember him; when they had met, he was still Steve Rogers, a ninety-pound asthmatic kid that made Colonel Phillips cry at his failed exercise attempts.

Evelyn was etched with wrinkles and had her silver grey hair tied neatly into a bun. Her hands were still steady, but the veins snaking up her hands and the knobby bones gave her away. But, she was still a very active woman and very skilled. Some said that she fabricated some odd medicines, but they worked. When she was in her thirties, after the war was over, Evelyn dedicated herself to chemistry and experiments, and then she'd provide those samples to government agencies. Unknowingly, she was supplying SHIELD's medicine storage.

(When Fury provides someone with a new house, he doesn't choose random places…)

Skye didn't mind staying with the Lancasters, but she was suspicious as to why she was being left with them. Coulson said he was leaving for work, but she knew that it was a lie. If he was going to work, why didn't he put on a suit, as always? He was wearing casual clothes, jeans and a shirt. Why hadn't Lola flown out of the garage? She even saw him stopping at the red light at the end of the street! And, if he was going to work, why didn't he go to the safe to pick up his gun and badge?

Coulson returned two hours later and walked straight to the Lancasters apartment. He was immediately confronted with Skye's inquisitive look.

"Alright," Coulson admitted defeat. "I didn't go to work. But it was work related. I went to pick up an agent who just got off from a mission."

"Who was it?"

"Her name is Melinda May. She might already be upstairs; she's really fast," Coulson grinned. "She's staying over for dinner."

As soon as Skye heard that name, she forgave Coulson's lie. He would talk about May so much that it was obvious for her that her father liked her. "You think she'll like me?"

"I don't see why I wouldn't," May herself replied, waiting for Coulson and the girl at the door of their apartment.

Skye's posture straightened and she walked towards the agent. She stretched out her hand, "I'm Skye."

May shook Skye's hand with care, "And I'm Melinda May. Nice to meet you."

"Nice to meet you too."

Coulson was beaming as he opened the door. He walked to the kitchen, telling the two of them that he was going to prepare something for dinner. Skye led May to the living room as a way to make the agent feel at home, as if it was her own apartment.

Skye looked at the deck of cards she was still holding in her hand. Her expression changed from a smile to a concerned frown, "I forgot to give Mr. William his cards and I can't go back there."

"I'm sure your father will understand if you go downstairs to give Mr. William his cards back. I can go there with you-"

"No, I can't go there," the girl shook her head. "Mr. William was teaching me to play poker and dad doesn't want me to learn it. Promise not to tell him?"

"Your secret is safe with me don't worry." May's lips slightly twitched in a smile. "Has he taught you any card tricks?" After getting Skye's negative answer, May started walking to the couch and called, "Come here, I'll teach you some."

After a while, Coulson came to lean against the wall, watching May and Skye completely engrossed and entertained, one teaching, and the other learning. Skye would giggle and jump from her seat once she had managed to do the trick.

"Don't teach my daughter to be a con artist," Coulson spoke after a few minutes of observing them.

May looked back quickly as if Coulson's voice had pulled her out of a trance, "How long have you been standing there?"

"Just got here," Coulson lied and May rolled her eyes; he was a terrible liar.

"Dad you should see," Skye spoke enthusiastically, her eyes sparkling with excitement. "Melinda knows so many tricks."

"Dad knows card tricks too. After dinner I'll show you one that's really cool. But now go wash your hands, dinner's ready."

The girl left her playing cards on the couch and walked to the bathroom. May was gathering the cards and Coulson was still standing in the same place, with a huge dorky smile on his face.

Once May caught him beaming, she asked, "What?"

"I'm trying to find my partner." His dorky smile turned into a playful one. He was surprised, but in love with May's behavior. "I think I've lost her."

"Tell me about her, maybe I have seen her," The other agent replied, curious to hear him.

"Well, she's a pretty girl, thinks she can jump tall buildings in a single leap, carries the weight of the world over her shoulders, yet still manages to laugh at some of my jokes. And she can hurt me while doing Tai Chi."

"Tai Chi is a form of moving meditation, not a fighting art."

"And somehow, you still managed to break my nose."

"You were in the way," May excused herself as she walked to Coulson.

"Hi," Skye said in a bubbly voice, purposefully killing the moment between May and her father. She had been standing next to them for a while and neither of the two had seen her.

Coulson blinked and swallowed, throat dry. His eyes then turned to Skye. "Let's have dinner before it cools."

Skye sat at the table, impatiently waiting for the adults to join her.

"Macaroni and cheese," May commented while taking a seat as well.

Coulson was going to explain that it was a simple and quick meal to prepare but Skye spoke before him, "We eat mac and cheese all the time. It's the only thing dad can cook."

The man looked at Skye, who was giggling, happy with the outcome of her joke, and then looked at May, chewing on her lower lip, containing a chuckle. "I left you two alone for a few minutes," he commented, eyeing the two suspiciously.

He knew that May hadn't said a thing to Skye about making fun of him, but he could clearly tell that Skye was influenced by May's behavior; Skye liked her and so she seemed to be a good role model. The rest of the dinner went as smoothly as possible. Coulson was happy to see that Skye and May were getting along really well. Still, once their meal was over, Skye ran to the living room to pick the deck of cards back up. The two adults cleared the table, putting the dirty dishes in the sink, and then Coulson took the cards from Skye.

"I'll show a guessing card trick." Showing Skye all the cards facing down, he asked, "Pick one and memorize it."

As Skye memorized the card and showed it to May, Coulson made three small piles and then asked his daughter to put her card on top of any pile she wanted. After giving all three piles a cut and gathering them to a single pile, Coulson started dealing the cards facing up until they were all gone. He had just made five more piles, and by now May knew who had taught him that trick; the poker dealer during their mission in Monte Carlo a couple of years before.

"Alright, now I'll guess your card." Coulson picked up all the cards again and went through the deck, choosing a random card. "Is it this one?" Skye bit her tongue not to laugh as she nodded her head. "Right," Coulson put the card back in the deck and carried on, "I forgot to tell you that the deck is set so whatever your card is it will spell its name. Now I know that the card you picked is the two of diamonds."

He started dealing one card at the time, facing down, while spelling, "T-W-O-O-F-"

Skye's giggle made him stop. "It wasn't the two of diamonds."

"It wasn't the two of diamonds?" She nodded again. Coulson pretended to be very embarrassed by the situation, "I guess I can't really remember how to do the trick anymore. What was the card then?"

The girl looked at May, who ended up whispering in her ear what the card was so she could say it, "Queen of hearts."

"Alright, let me try with that." Coulson picked up the cards he had laid on the table and put them back in the deck, "Spell that for me." Skye looked at her father; she couldn't spell. "Ok, May help her."

Coulson stopped dealing the cards after May spelled 'Queen of hearts' and then revealed the next card of the pile he was holding in his hand. It was the Queen of hearts. Skye was fascinated. "How did you do it?"

"A good artist never reveals his tricks," Coulson bragged. He earned another eye roll from May, but this time accompanied with a smirk. "Maybe I'll teach you another time."

"Can we watch a movie then?" Skye asked. "Today is Friday and we always watch movies."

"If it's okay with May." Coulson eyed the woman who gave him a small nod. "Alright, you can pick a movie. But," he reinforced, stopping Skye from leaving, "go put your pyjamas on and brush your teeth first. May and I will go to the living room after we wash the dishes."

"It's early, dad. I don't wanna put them on!" Skye whined.

Coulson was going to insist on the idea, but May solved it for him easily, "I think you should do what your father asked. If you fall asleep during the movie, he doesn't have to awake you up to take you to bed."

"Okay," Skye accepted May's suggestion.

When May looked over, Coulson had a thankful expression on his face. Promptly, the two divided tasks without even saying a word; as a guest, May washed the dishes, and Coulson cleaned and put them in their proper place.

"I'm sorry," Coulson spoke apologetically, "this must be so dull for you. But she usually falls asleep pretty quickly."

"You just didn't invite me for sex; you invited me for dinner as well. If I didn't want to come, I'd have told you." May offered a smile to cheer Coulson up. "Besides, I wanted to meet the girl, see how much you've messed her up." Coulson feigned to be insulted by her comment, "But she's such a sweet girl; smart, well behaved. You're doing great with her, Phil." After letting Coulson take in that compliment, May drew a sigh and confessed, "And it is nice to come home and meet something like this, not just an empty apartment."

"You are more than welcome to come over any time you want, Melinda."

Silence then settled on the kitchen. It wasn't anything awkward, just simply lack of anything to talk about as the two finished up doing the dishes.

After zapping through the channels, Skye showed up in the kitchen, completely ecstatic, "Daddy, Riggs and Murtaugh movie is on! Come fast."

May took a deep relieved breath without even realizing it; at least Skye chose a good movie. She wouldn't have to endure a kids' movie or anything similar. The two agents moved to the living room to watch Lethal Weapon 2 with Skye. The whole apartment was in the dark and the TV was the only thing shedding light in the room. Skye stirred on the couch until she figured out how she wanted to sit. Or better, how she wanted to lie down. She realized that their guest didn't mind if she used her lap to rest her head, and that her father's lap was great to put her feet on.

Half an hour into the movie, Skye was sleeping. Coulson picked her up in arms and carried her to bed. May turned off the TV and followed after him. It only took a couple of seconds for Coulson to leave Skye's bedroom door ajar and wrap his arms around May's waist.

"You know," May spoke in between kisses. "I'll be leaving… early in the… morning."

"I understand," Coulson muzzled against her neck.

The last sound that was heard in the apartment was Coulson's bedroom door being locked.

* * *

Skye awoke at just past noon. It was a normal Saturday morning. While Skye would sleep in, Coulson would have time to workout, take a shower, have a tremendous breakfast and do some work in his office. But that day wasn't a typical Saturday for either of them. Coulson had just gotten out of bed as well.

The girl rolled out of bed and tottered along the apartment, still sleepy, yawning and rubbing her eyes in search for her father. Coulson was in his bedroom, staring at his reflection in the mirror, his fingers tracing the length of his scar from when he was shot in the spleen. There was something different about the importance of that healed wound now; better yet, a different feel about it. He smiled as his breath stumbled, recalling the soft touch of May's lips running across it.

Noticing that a sleepy Skye was looking for him, Coulson buttoned up his shirt and walked to the door of his bedroom. "Good afternoon."

Coulson waited for Skye's typical question about lunch, but that day wasn't a typical Saturday. Instead, she popped another question, "Where is Melinda?"

"Melinda has left already."

"I thought she was staying."

"She has her own house," Coulson started as he guided Skye back to her bedroom. "Why would she stay here?"

"Because you like her."

Coulson, who was picking out some clothes for Skye, suddenly stopped and looked back. He felt a trickle of warmth seeping into his whole body. "Where did you get that idea?"

"Because you look at her like those people from the movies," Skye explained; it was plain for her to see. "Did you telled you like her?"

He felt his heart pounding faster and a rush of blood climbing up to his face. He didn't know why he was feeling like that, so teenage-like. Yet, that feeling was something new. Something he hadn't felt before. Coulson left Skye dressing up in her bedroom. As he walked out, he settled a thought in his head: next time the opportunity came up, he'd tell May about how he feels.

* * *

**I wanna know your opinions on this chapter.**

**Next one will feature a SHIELD agent who has a gorgeous head, a dreamy God and a boy (yes, by now he's still a boy) who can shoot the legs off a flea at 500 yards as long as it's not too windy... or he can rupture your spleen, with his left pinky, blindfolded! Let me know in the comments if you got the hints about the characters and I might disclosure you a little of what will happen in the eight chapter. :)**


	8. Friends to go

**Curious to know how come I joined Sitwell, Ward and Thor on a single chapter? Give it a read and you'll find out! ^_^ I know you'll especially love protective-kid-Grant. **

**(If makes people a little happier, I already have a written chapter in which the characters that pop up are a engineer-to-be and a biochemist-to-be)**

* * *

Skye is 6-years-old

* * *

**Help others**

Coulson and Skye were on the way to a diner to meet with Jasper Sitwell. As the meeting place was relatively near the apartment, Coulson chose to walk there. Not to mention that the snowfall had been intense during the previous hours that obliged some roads to be closed down. As a result, there were many kids playing out in the street for as long as the weather allowed them to. Coulson had to pull Skye by the hand as she'd keep getting her feet stuck in the snow.

"Starting to regret your decision?" Coulson asked with a mocking tone.

"No," Skye huffed, freeing her feet from under the thick layer of snow.

"You could have stayed with the Lancasters, in the warmth of the house. I said this wouldn't take long, and I know you don't really like Jasper."

"Don't care," she mumbled, holding tightly to his hand.

Sitwell had an important favor to ask Coulson, and he could already tell that it would involve doing all the heavy lifting while Sitwell sat idly by, avoiding responsibility and work. Skye didn't like Sitwell at all, but she couldn't really elaborate much further on the whys. She never liked the way he looked, and the way talked and acted bothered her. But, if he was a friend of dad's, then he must have some good in him. Even though Coulson had offered her the chance to stay with the Lancaster couple, Skye didn't take it. She was tenacious and could endure Sitwell if it meant another opportunity to beg for a dog on their way to the diner.

"Tell me why I can't have a puppy!" Skye demanded as she walked hand in hand with Coulson.

"You just started first grade, Skye. You spend more time at school now, and I don't have time to properly take care of a dog. Besides, we live in an apartment; I don't know if we can even have a dog in our building."

"Mr. Tim lives in the apartment in front of us and he has a dog!"

"Alright, true that," Coulson had to give that to her, but he wasn't done. "But Mr. Tim is unemployed and has plenty of time to take care of his dog. Can you imagine us leaving the poor thing all alone in the apartment when we're not home?"

Skye shrugged and said, "I still want a puppy."

Coulson sighed. All he could think about was tracking down Natasha and Clint, killing them, choping them up into tiny little pieces and throwing them in the deep high seas. It was because of the two of them that Skye had been stubbornly asking for a dog. Planting that thought in her head was 'a little Christmas gift for the best SO ever', they later explained. A couple of days ago the two of them went over to Coulson's apartment to collect some important information for their mission that would be during the New Year. Before leaving, Clint, in a sweet and loving way, asked Skye if she had chosen a Christmas gift. As the girl replied that she hadn't made up her mind yet, Natasha slyly smirked and suggested that she ask Coulson for a puppy. It was Coulson's downfall ever since that day. Four days had gone by since the Strike Team Delta visited and Skye had already asked for a dog thirty-three times (he kept count).

"Ok, you want a puppy? I'll give you money to buy one." Coulson stopped and let go of Skye's hand. "How much money do you want?" The man knew he was doing foul play because Skye didn't know the real value of money.

"I want 20 dollars." Skye said grinning as if 20 dollars would suffice to buy a pet.

"Here," Coulson opened his wallet and gave her the money, "20 dollars for you to buy a dog. After we meet with Jasper I'll take you to a pet shop and you can buy a puppy."

Skye squeaked and put the money in the pocket of her coat. She held Coulson's hand again and didn't say anything else during the walk to the diner. Coulson bit the inside of his cheek to keep from smiling. When they entered, the two walked to the table where Sitwell was sitting at.

"Hello there," Sitwell said with a smile, gently pinching one of Skye's cheeks. "How are you?"

Skye snorted and looked at her father, who was already taking a seat on the other side of the table. "Can I play outside?"

Coulson took a quick glance outside the window and saw a few children playing. He nodded his head, but warned, "Keep close by, Skye."

The girl nodded and walked out the door. The children that had been playing out in the street had left, running back to their house, which was something she found odd. Still, she shrugged, stuffed her hands into the pockets of her long coat, and started walking around leisurely. Dark clouds overshadowed the sky and loud thunder was heard. Coulson looked outside upon hearing the awful sound that seemed to rip the sky in two. Skye was alright, quite frightened by the sudden thunder, but she didn't display any uncontrollable panic that would seem enough to make him get up and bring her inside.

In Skye's case, curiosity was bigger than fear, so she started following the gigantic footprints she found in the snow. Suddenly she realized that she had walked rather far from the diner. She stopped once she found no more footprints. Louder thunder was heard, this time it seemed closer to her than before. She shook with the startle and felt the need to run back to her father. But she didn't. Skye saw this older boy, about ten or eleven-years-old, sitting on the snowy ground, back leaning against the bricked wall of an apartment building. At first Skye believed that the boy was feeling cold as he was wearing jeans, sneakers and a grey hoodie. She then realized he was shaking in fear as a loud roar was heard.

An enormous, feral grey monster with sharp teeth and claws and a giant spiked tail made the whole ground shake as it ran with long jumps. Skye was feeling scared and fascinated at the same time. When she looked at the snow, she noticed those were the same footprints she saw earlier.

"How dare thou to defy the son of Odin?"

A tall, burly, blond man swiftly passed Skye, running. She barely caught a glimpse of him, but he was odd, to speak mildly, wearing heavyset armor and a red cape, a hammer in his hand.

"Heimdall, now!" the blond man yelled as he ran back toward Skye.

The ground was shaking again and that enormous grey beast was coming in their direction. The boy that Skye had seen got up in a jump to get himself in front of her, but as he ran with such hurry, he knocked Skye to the ground, shielding her body with his. A golden ray came down from the sky and the burly man was gone along with the beast. Before their eyes they had just witnessed the son of Odin, Thor, chasing after a Frost Beast, and then the Bifrost opening and taking the two of them back to Jötunheim.

"What was that?" the boy puffed as he sat up, gazing at the quietness of DC as it was before those two visitors.

"That was …" Skye began, pausing as she sat up, "so cool!"

"You're kidding, right? Whatever that was could have killed us."

"I think it was Thor," the girl replied with a huge grin. "I've seen him in a Norse book that daddy has. Have you heard of him?"

"Uh, no." The boy frowned, getting up quickly. "This is city is nuts!" Skye laughed at his comment and that gave the boy enough time to look around the deserted street. "Are-are you here alone?"

"No, my dad is at the diner." She pointed in the general direction of the colorful building. "But he's talking with Jasper, and I don't like him." The boy nodded and shuffled his feet awkwardly. "And you? Are you alone?"

"Kind of. My parents sent me to spend the holydays with my grandparents, but the bus ride was long and I'm really hungry but I have no money! And I think I'm a little lost…"

Skye searched on her pocket and showed him the 20 dollars Coulson had given her earlier. "I can give you this. I was going to buy a puppy with it, but if you're hungry, you can take it."

"Thanks." The boy took the money with a chuckle and the two started making their way to the diner. "By the way, you were never going to buy a puppy with 20 dollars."

Once Skye and the boy entered the diner – Sitwell and Coulson now being its only occupants – Skye walked over to the counter and said, "Give us everything we can buy with 20 dollars."

The waitress looked over at Coulson, who gave her a small nod, allowing her to serve food and drinks to the two kids. The older one immediately moved to a booth, waiting on a meal. The kid wasn't hungry, he was starving.

"Look at that," Coulson commented to Skye, "you've made a friend."

"This is Grant. He was on his way to his grandparents' house but got hungry, so I gave him the money you gave me to buy the puppy so he could eat. And I think we saw Thor outside!"

"That's lovely, Skye." Coulson smiled; Skye had a wonderful imagination.

"See?" Sitwell said, resuming the conversation with Coulson. "Follow her example and help others in need."

"You're not in need, Jasper. You're asking me to do a two-day mission in Vegas in your place."

"I need to go somewhere else, Phil. This is hard on me too, asking you this, don't think otherwise."

"It's during Christmas, Jasper. I'm fine doing it, but Skye… She won't like the idea, and I can't blame her." The two men stared each other down. "Alright," Coulson hesitantly answered, giving in to Sitwell's pressure. "I'll ask her, but if she says no, I'm not doing your mission."

"Deal."

Coulson called Skye to come over to their table. She got on her knees on the cushioned seat and Coulson put his arm around her waist to help her sustain her balance. "Jasper asked dad to do a two-day mission in Vegas, but it's during Christmas. Are you okay with that?"

Skye frowned as she looked at Sitwell and frankly said, "He's a jerk, but…"

"But you don't mind if I have to go?"

"If you have to."

Coulson planted a kiss on her cheek and smiled, "I promise I will make it up to you once I come back."

"You'll get me a puppy?"

"I think your friend is feeling quite lonely over there." Coulson avoided the question by putting Skye on the floor and she walked over to sit next to Grant.

"I'll give you everything you need for the mission by tomorrow," Sitwell said with a despising victory smile on his face.

A couple of minutes later Coulson got up and walked over to Skye and Grant. "Come on son, we'll walk you over to your grandparents'."

"Thank you Sir, but I can go alone now," Grant politely answered.

Coulson patted his shoulder and said, "It wasn't a question, kid. Come on."

Grant got up and both Coulson and Skye walked the way to his grandparents' house and safely left him with the elderly couple. Coulson and Skye then rushed their pace to get home as snowflakes were starting to fall. Once they were at home, Coulson turned on the heating system while Skye climbed up his book shelf and brought down a Norse mythology book to prove to her father that she and Grant had seen Thor.

Coulson then pondered that he had to find someone to stay with Skye while he was out on the mission. He could call SHIELD and they'd get someone over rapidly, but he didn't want to do that. He didn't want to get Sitwell in trouble. And besides, he wanted two specific people to look after Skye.

"Romanoff," Coulson said as soon as the redheaded answered his call. "I was assigned a last minute mission and I want you to come over and look after Skye the 24th and 25th of this month."

"Uh, Sir," Natasha stuttered, "I can't… you know I can't… take care of children. We don't… mingle well."

"I want Barton to come too. You call him." And then he hung up.

Director Fury was pissed, demanding an explanation as to why Sitwell had taken a trip to Havana when he was supposed to work a mission in Vegas. But, if that whole situation went badly for Sitwell, Coulson couldn't complain. As he filled in his position for the mission and successfully completed it, Coulson was one step closer to a promotion to be level 7, while Sitwell's imminent career progression was put on hold. That obviously pleased and benefited Coulson.

Skye was also happy, waking up on the morning of the 26th to an excitable Labrador puppy jumping up onto her bed and her father grinning down at her. The little dog was all chocolate colored and so Skye named him Chip because he looked like a chocolate chip cookie and that was something she loved. Coulson was aware of the troubles that the dog would bring, but he had Skye clinging to his neck, completely ecstatic, thanking him for the dog endlessly, so he didn't really mind it.

* * *

**So, yeah, leave me a review and enjoy this chapter really much. ****Next one will be a sad one and the story will change completely. Don't give up on me and my story after the next chapter. I'll surprise you with tenth chapter. **


	9. Fine Line

**So, here I am updating the chapter that maybe no one wants to read... :) I should tell you that I already got the next chapter back from my beta reader, but I'll only post it whenever I feel like I've tortured you enough! I'm so mean I could be HYDRA! xD (Maybe... maybe I'll post the chapter Sunday night. Maybe!)**

**Anyway, enjoy it as best as it's possible.**

* * *

Skye is 6-years-old

* * *

**Never give up**

Coulson awoke once the details of his dream were getting too similar to his daily life. His brain perceived it was only a dream and pulled him out of dreamland. He opened one eye and moaned, his whole body aching. Sleeping with his head on his desk, paperwork and reports digging into his cheek, had seemed like such a good idea last night. Now, however, he wasn't so sure.

He blinked, tasted the draft of bitterness in his mouth, shut his eyes, and blinked again. As he yawned while rubbing the sleepiness from his eyes, fuzzy last remnants of a dream were being chased away. It was a nice dream but the details were fading fast as he tried to hold on to them. Lately dreams were one of the best things that brought meaning to his life.

"Oh God…" Coulson grumbled when he rested back in the chair. He even heard some of his bones cracking.

He slowly raised his head once he heard Skye's dog frantically running into his office, his nails scratching on the floor. The dog jumped onto Coulson's lap, put his paws on his chest and gave him one long lick on the face.

"Thanks Chip…" he mumbled in a hoarse voice, cleaning his face. "I really needed that."

The agent had to put the dog on the floor to push himself up from the chair. Chip ran to Coulson's bedroom and grabbed one of his shoes. The dog then returned to the couch, chewing on the shoe. Coulson tottered to the living room, finding Skye on the couch and the TV on, the flashing images of the cartoons burning his sleepy, exhausted eyes.

"Morning dad," Skye spoke between a spoonful of cereal.

"Not such a great morning," Coulson grumbled, seeing that Chip was biting another pair of his shoes.

"I've fed Chip already," Skye told him. That felt like a punch to the stomach for Coulson.

He made his way to the kitchen and despair hit him harder. There were kibbles all over the kitchen floor, and cereal grains as well.

"Skye," he shouted, "how many times did I tell you not to feed Chip and to wait for someone to prepare your breakfast?"

"I didn't make much of a mess!" the girl said in the living room.

"Of course not!" Coulson's voice climbed up a full octave without effort.

Skye tried to get up quickly to meet her father, but she ended up spilling her breakfast on the floor. "Oops," she whispered, returning to her seat on the couch, hoping her father wouldn't look at the floor.

Coulson cleaned up the mess Skye had made in the kitchen and when was done, he headed toward his bedroom to change clothes. Though, he stopped in the hallway, finding it suspicious that Skye was so focused on whatever Chip was sniffing on the floor. Little did he know that she had gotten the dog to lick the milk and cereal off the floor.

Once he got to his bedroom, he found his clothes all over the place, bitten shoes and socks with holes accompanying them. The whole house was a mess, reports were piling up on his desk, his work performance was climbing down at a preoccupying rate, and his relationship with Skye was getting distant. It had been a couple of months since Coulson started avoiding spending time either at work or at home. It wasn't because he didn't enjoy his work anymore or that he didn't like Skye any longer. It was just that his whole life had at some point become one huge routine. He had obligations, and if he felt that wasn't fair and good for him, it was even less fair for Skye. She needed someone who could protect her, and Coulson felt that having someone depending on him that much wasn't healthy for him.

Coulson sat on the floor at the foot of his bed, realizing that little by little, he was losing control of all his life obligations. He couldn't live like that any longer. All his life he had been Mr. Right and that wasn't sustainable. He was only a man, and he was all alone; he wanted to get something else in exchange.

A thought ran through his mind, but the agent simply shut his eyes, trying to forget about it. He got up from the floor and quickly made his way to the bathroom. He splashed some cold water on his face, but the thought was still there, louder than before, righter than before. Gazing at his reflection in the mirror, he made his decision. He walked back to his office and made a call to SHIELD.

Guilt struck him right after he hung up. He passed by Skye in the living room. She was so engrossed with her cartoons, giggling joyfully, that he had to leave the room immediately. Tears were threatening to fall down his face, but he didn't allow himself that. He grabbed a duffel bag and started stuffing in everything that belonged to Skye. He left it by the door. In his head he was preparing a speech that he knew Skye wouldn't accept, just like it didn't feel right for him to be saying it. But he had to do it, and if he were to do one last good thing for Skye, then he'd do it at that moment.

Walking into the living room, Coulson turned off the TV and got the bowl of cereal from Skye's hand, putting it on the coffee table in front of them. Skye looked at Coulson, puzzled; she could sense something wrong was going on. He took a seat on the couch next to her and breathed out, gathering the courage.

"I hope you will one day forgive me, Skye," Coulson started, "for what I've done. For what I'm about to do."

"What's going on?"

"SHIELD is going to take you-"

Skye questioned immediately, tears pooling in her eyes, "Take me where?"

Coulson took a deep breath and restarted, "SHIELD is going to take you to an orphanage."

"That's where boys and girls who don't have a family are. You don't want me anymore? You said I'd always have you. Why you no want me anymore?"

By now tears were rushing down Skye's cheeks.

"It's not that I don't want you anymore. It's just I… Skye?" Coulson tried to pull her to his lap but she crawled away from him. "Listen, these things are not up to me," he lied, even though he promised her he'd never lie. "You have to understand, Skye. It's for your own good."

"But I don't wanna go. I wanna stay here, with you."

"Skye, if you're going away it means that I'm not doing a good job taking care of you. They'll find someone else to-"

"You're doing good, dad." Skye cried and clung to his neck, "I don't want to go! Don't let them take me."

Coulson gently forced Skye to let go of him. "Let's get your clothes changed. Some SHIELD agents will come by to take you in a while."

"I don't want to go…"

Skye kept on crying and crying and Coulson had to take her in his arms and dress her up. The girl didn't even put a fight. She was just crying and sobbing, clinging to her father's neck every time she had a chance.

"Where-where am I going?" she asked between sobs.

"I don't know."

"But you'll visit me there, right?"

Coulson sighed, wiping away her tears. "I don't think I'll even know where you're being taken."

The doorbell rang a while later, and Skye cried harder, wrapping her arms around Coulson's legs so he wouldn't open up the door. He picked her up in his arms and opened the door to two SHIELD agents.

"Daddy…" Skye whimpered.

Coulson sighed and told her, "You'll have to go now."

The girl hugged him tightly and didn't let go. The two agents were just standing there, looking at the scene.

Coulson looked up and said, "Take her." The agent stood still, and Coulson insisted, "Take her. Now."

The child cried as the agents took her away. As soon as the door closed, Coulson realized that he might have just made the biggest mistake of his life, but by then it was too late to change his mind.

Skye had taught him about never giving up, but he was weak and he failed, and so he gave up.

* * *

**On a further chapter you'll understand the reason for Coulson's behavior in this chapter and why he did this.**

**Next chapter will be the turning point of this story, making it chapter 11 a some sort of phase 2 for this fanfiction. I hope I'll keep you hooked, because I know the change will leave you a bit surprised. A bit only, it's not like something you'd never expect it to happen.**

**So, reviews are really nice and I love them. Tell me what you thought of this chapter, feel free to insult Coulson as much as you like, tell me what do you expect for the phase 2 of this fanfiction.**


	10. Prologue

**So... you all hate me... a lot. Good. That was the main objective.**

**I believe I had my chance to tell pretty much everyone but Coulson will redeem himself. You'll get to know his reasoning on an upcoming chapter, though it is not him who says it. However, on the two last chapters he will say with his own words TO SKYE why he did what he did. So, rest assure and please don't have thoughts of punching him again. ****As you'll get by the end of this chapter, there's really no use to be upset at Coulson because this story will change.**

**One last thing I should tell you: kiss 'phase I' goodbye and embrace 'phase II' (using Marvel's vocabulary to tell you that the story action will change) **

* * *

(Skye is still six-years-old)

* * *

**5 months later**

**Essex, New York**

Essex was a quiet county, fairly busy, in perfect harmony with the countryside views. Leyton, a small village of the state, was a tranquil place as well. The countryside was mainly very green, sloppy hills with wild flowers and tall grass, and in one of the valleys a stream with clear silver water trickled by. Up in the highlands, the cowherds mowed wheat and rye, and the cowbells tinkled as the animals grazed in the farms big cereal crops.

In the depths of the woods, kids played hide and seek or pretend to be knights fighting dragons and magical creatures. But only for as long as the sun was up in the sky. Once the sun settled, the forest was deserted and left alone to be devoured by the darkness of the night.

The county was provided with all public services. It was a small town like every other, with streets that looked the same as every other.

Mr. Smith's barber shop had a small bell on that door that rang every time a costumer walked in. That was where all the men and boys got their hair and beards cut and trimmed. And all who passed by him stopped by to say hello to the old man of white hair and trembling hands.

In the fire station lived the bravest yet most idiotic man of the whole street. Horace Gump was a firefighter who solved the town's problems and kept time by hourglass. He hadn't been to school and was limited in all aspects. Gump spent most of his time in the station, cleaning and oiling up the fire trucks. He only loved two people in his life, and he kept their photos with him at all times: his mother and the President.

Behind the stall in the middle of the roundabout, the pretty nurse Eleanor sold poppies whenever she was not working in the town's hospital. Between selling one or two poppies, she'd sigh, dreaming of how much she wanted to be an actress. And every time Daniel, the teacher of the elementary school, walked by, she'd grab a bunch of flowers and start singing and dancing, daydreaming that her life was a play and that Daniel was in the front row, smiling only for her.

Olivia ran the local market and Martha was the owner of the small town's pub. They were neighbors and they started fights as often as they talked when hanging their clothes on the clothes line. What everyone but Martha knew was that Olivia was sleeping with the other woman's husband. Martha's husband was discharged from the Gulf war, leg amputated. The only thing that gave him a thrill anymore was his extramarital affair and his appliances' store, where he repaired and sold all sorts of appliances.

But if the street was so apparently normal, what separated it from all the others?

The orphanage. The St. Agnes orphanage distinguished that street from any other. The institution was a two-story property, guarded by an ornamented, squeaky, red gate, surrounded by a relatively high wall and red rusty railings. It had a large courtyard where the children played, and in the back, the few trees that adorned the yard were high, almost touching the suburban blue sky. The ground floor of the house was the common area where the kids and the employees spent most of their time, and where they had their meals. The first floor was the children's rooms, and it was rather shadowy and damp.

Skye (now given the name of Mary Sue Poots) felt like an outsider, but she was starting to mingle, and she found refuge in the new little friend she made, the only one she really had. Oliver (his name given to him by the orphanage personnel because of his olive eye color) was a foster child ever since he could remember, and unlike the other kids in the orphanage, he was the only one who didn't set her aside.

The two kids walked through the forest even though they weren't supposed to be there. It was a deep and dark place, and dangerous enough for the tiny feet of the children to trample through. But they couldn't care less.

"I shall be a brave knight who will save you, milady," the blond six-year-old boy spoke, looking back at Skye as they walked the earthy path, "from the almighty dangerous dragon. With my sword-"

"Pfft," Skye scowled, "save me? I could save both yours and my butt easy! I don't need a charming prince to save me."

"I said I was a knight not a prince!" the boy retorted. "And if you're so fine by yourself, be a knight like me too. I'll go ahead and get some berries. I'm starving."

Oliver started to vanish into the depths of the forest, picking wild berries here and there.

"Ouch!" Skye groaned as a briar scrapped her leg. "Wait for me, Ollie!"

"Come on, Mary," Oliver called, running in little hops, jumping over the wild vegetation that was scratching his legs.

Skye moved faster, ignoring the briars that caught at her leg, and the damp leaves that grimed her skin. She lifted her face, watching the fading sunlight. New shadows and dark patches were being created around her. The wind wailed between distorted trunks. The birds chirped up in their nests, settling in for the night, and an owl was hooting mournfully in the distance. There was a minty and woody smell in the air, and the sound of the leaves crushing under their feet filled the air.

Suddenly, Oliver was nowhere to be seen.

The eerie sounds intensified. The wind felt chiller than before. It was getting dark far too fast. Skye took a deep breath while looking around. The only thing louder than the surrounding sounds were her pounding heart and heavy breathing.

She gasped as her mind played tricks on her, making her see things where there were none. The ghostly monsters kept hovering around her, coming closer with every breath. It didn't matter how many times she'd turn, they were everywhere. Blood stained the trees and shrieks of pain and terror surrounded her. The monsters kept coming closer and closer and –

"Get back!" she yelled loudly, on the verge of tears. "Get back, don't hurt me!"

Hearing Skye's screams, Oliver turned back, believing she was playing a distressed princess, waiting for him to rescue her. Panting, his cheeks smudged in purple and red from the berries, he found Skye sitting on the ground, back leaning against a tree trunk. She had her knees against her heaving chest and droplets of sweat were running down her blood-red cheeks.

Skye was having a panic attack. She kept looking around frantically, mumbling things to herself between sobs. Oliver tried to get a hold of her, but as soon as he grasped her arm, Skye rebelled and pushed him away. Her eyes darkened with fear and anger; she was still trapped between her delusional world and the present world.

Oliver was scared. He looked around, clueless, but then decided to return to the orphanage and tell them about Skye.

"Mary," he spoke softly, "I'll get help. Don't go away. I'll be right back."

The boy was back with one of the employees of the orphanage who ran straight to Skye as Oliver led the way. He grabbed Skye strongly by her forearms and forced her to stand up, but she didn't have strength to hold herself up. From afar, Oliver heard Skye yelling and crying, and he was terrified. He knew her as a playful and cocky girl, and now she was succumbing to a dreadful thought haunting her soul. The man ended up being stronger than Skye's rebellion and carried her back to the home, and then she was taken to the hospital. On the way to the hospital, Skye sniffled with tears in her eyes, still shaking with fear and asking for her daddy.

Skye was lying on a gurney in the infirmary of the hospital. The orphanage worker was there with her. The girl was calm due to the medication the doctor administrated her. She had a nurse (nurse Eleanor, actually) wiping her forehead and changing her clothes, as she was drenched in cold sweat. Eleanor tied Skye's brown hair into a messy ponytail and provided her with some Legos for her entertainment as they waited on a child psychologist to try to understand the cause of Skye's panic attack. It didn't have any effect, because Skye only talked about 'monsters' this, and 'monsters' that, nothing concrete. The truth was that those monsters had been always been living in Skye's head, she had just never had a traumatic experience to trigger those memories. The surroundings of the forest and the fact that it was night and that she suddenly saw herself alone had activated those memories.

A man in a grey suit, spotless white shirt and a black tie entered the infirmary. With his hands in his pockets, he slowly walked towards Skye, who frowned, not knowing him. He pulled out a chair and sat next to her gurney.

"Hello, Skye," he greeted.

Skye was petrified and mute with fear. He knew her name, her real name.

"Don't be scared," he said, going through the inner pocket of his jacket and pulled out of some sort of leather wallet. "My name is Aaron McQuaid."

The leather wallet turned out to be his badge, which he put in Skye's hands. She opened it up and immediately recognized the eagle shaped logo.

Skye let out a relieved sighed and asked, "Are you gonna take me to my dad?"

"I don't know yet. I'll have to report to Director Fury and he'll tell me what to do. But for now, how are you feeling? Has this ever happened before?"

"No," she shook her head, "But I have seen those monsters before. They kill people in a bad way, there's blood everywhere and people screaming-and-and-"

"It's okay," McQuaid rubbed Skye's arm soothingly. "No need to panic. Everything's alright, you're safe."

"Can you-can you call Fury now?" Skye asked between sobs as she controlled her breathing. "I wanna go home."

McQuaid nodded and got up. "Alright, I'll call him. Don't worry, ok? Everything's alright now."

The SHIELD agent returned after a short time. She was going back to Washington, but he ignored her when she asked him if she was going to be with her dad. Not even McQuaid knew that; Fury had told him to take care of Skye's transference back to DC, and that he'd decide her fate there.

* * *

**SHIELD'S Headquarters, Washington DC**

Director Fury paced around his office, pondering about what decision to make regarding the information he had just been given. He had an 0-8-4 child, who apparently had just recalled memories of a time when she was no older than two months. Those monsters that she had mentioned were referred to in Lumley and Avery's reports upon finding her. They were not good news. He couldn't keep her so far away from SHIELD's primary base of operation and in the care of civilians. She could have developed something inhuman that no one noticed. Skye needed to be examined by the finest doctors and scientists the agency had. There could be something new, something that she didn't manifest in six years.

"Secure the office," Fury said to the AI. The whole room was left in the dark as blinds shut the windows. Fury turned around, to face the monitor on the wall in front of him. "Search for retired agents' directory in the past 36 months,"

"Search complete, 29 files found," the robotic voice answered.

Fury didn't want that much. "Restrict search to the past 18 months."

"Restricted search completed, nine files found."

The Director didn't even hold his breath when it came to choosing one of the archives. "Open file May, Melinda Q."

Fury was sure that May was the right agent for the task. She had retired from the field half a year ago, working in the office of SHIELD, filling up paperwork and putting stamps on sheets, classifying documents according to clearance levels. May deserved better than a desk job.

McQuaid was astonished as Skye walked through the Triskelion's corridors as if it was the house she had always known. She was obviously given an ID card at the entrance that allowed her entrance to a select few doors, but she knew which ones she could enter, how to swipe the card, and she even recognized agents. She was completely at ease when McQuaid first took her to the medical room for initial tests. Skye wasn't unperturbed, but she was used to being submitted to exams.

"Where do we have to go?" she asked once she left the medical room and met up with McQuaid.

"To the office room; do you know the way there?"

"Yeah, sure. I've been there once, but I know where it is."

On their way there, Skye ran to a man that McQuaid didn't recognize, but she wrapped her arms around his legs and said, "I even missed you, jerk."

"T-thank you, Skye," Sitwell said awkwardly after having been insulted. Skye never tried to hide the fact that she didn't like him.

McQuaid left Skye in the office room, pointed to the agent she had to meet, and then left. Skye walked in slowly, looking everywhere in hopes of finding Coulson and giving him a gigantic hug, telling him how much she had missed him. Instead she found May. The girl's face lit up anyways.

"Melinda!" Skye said with a smile.

May turned her head to meet the girl and then looked back at the paper she had before her, pressing the red stamp on the top of the sheet. "Hello Skye," she greeted gloomily.

Skye's smile faded away slowly. That woman wasn't the same May she had met before. It was true that she had only seen her four or five times and that she never had easy-to-read expressions, but there was a different feeling about her. May used to have a cheeky side, a smirk, and a whole sense of happiness around her. The May that Skye now saw in front of her had strained and tired features, wrinkles on her forehead from constant worry and a mournful feeling pinning her down.

"Are you going to take me to my dad?" Skye asked, cocking her head.

"I'm stuck with you, and you're stuck with me, whether we like it or not."

"He's okay, right? Where is he?"

"Last time I heard he was in Peru, on a mission." May over used her strength to press the stamp to the sheet. "Sold the apartment in DC, and sold your dog too because it wouldn't stop whimpering."

(Coulson actually gave Chip to his friend John Garrett who named it Buddy)

"Why did he go to Peru? I mean, you said he's on a mission, but he has done missions before and I was there too. Why am I going to stay with you and not with him?"

"He was the one who turned you in to the orphanage. He was tired and couldn't take care of you anymore."

This new May was even sharper and more straightforward than the old May. Skye sunk down, depressed. She looked around and dragged an office chair from another cubicle over. She sat next to May, mulling over that recently learnt truth. There were many questions popping up in her head while in the search of an explanation for Coulson's actions. Skye was too young to have an elaborate thought. Her tender age lead her to a linear conclusion: she hated him.

Skye broke the silence after a while to ask, "When do you leave?"

"When I'm done," May harshly answered her.

Luckily, some SHIELD agents were already taking care of everything that Skye would need. May only had to host her in her apartment and hope that Skye wouldn't bug her too much.

* * *

**So, yes, this will start a new phase of the story and from now on, keep attentive for small indications that look like the actions seen on the show. This story will tie up with the actual time-space action of the show, so from now on, little details may be in the wind.**

**If you enjoyed it, give it a review and tell me if you're excited about this new era. **


	11. Things we say today

**My beautiful things, I've missed you immensely. I should tell you that I've finished writing this fanfiction. Now, all the work is over my amazing beta reader, so I post the chapters as soon as she gives them back to me.**

**If you like reading my stories, be sure to read the one-shot I'm putting out by tomorrow most definitively, Thoughts of an atheist. Soon, I'll also going to begin a new multi-chapter story and it's name will be A firefly in the blue of the sky. The first chapter will give you guys all the information about what kind of fanfiction it is. I'm sure people will like it.**

**Right now I can only wish you guys enjoy this chapter.**

* * *

Skye is 6-years-old

* * *

**Don't blame others**

May hated traffic jams.

Apparently there was an accident a couple of miles ahead of her car. Did people really have to be in a car accident right this minute? The line of cars went on for miles. The others that were stuck in the traffic, like her, were complete jackasses, honking and shouting.

May hated people.

"Can I open the door?" Skye whined, lying down on the backseat with her feet hanging out the open window.

"No, you can't," the agent replied, tightening her grip around the steering wheel, "we might move forward soon."

"We've been stuck in here for ages! We won't ever move from here!"

"We'll move." She exhaled deeply, like the doctor had taught her to once she started getting too anxious. "Today, preferably."

May hated Skye for not being more like her, lacking basic needs such as eating and sleeping. She didn't like the fact that Skye was dependent on her, and couldn't stand how curious and active she was.

May hated those SHIELD agents for being defenseless and letting themselves be taken hostage in Bahrain. They worked for one of the best state agencies, why were they so idiotically helpless?

May hated Fury for assigning her to a psychiatrist's appointment when she clearly didn't want (or need, in her opinion) help. (In a way, May never really made use of those appointments; she never spoke to the doctor, only showed up to the session and forced him to prescribe her some pills). And she also hated him for not only giving her a desk job at the office when she wanted to quit the agency, but also for making her Skye's tutor.

May hated Coulson for leaving her alone to fight her own demons when she had been there for him before. Why did he leave when she needed him the most?

She loathed everything and everyone, and that wasn't a new feeling for her. Ever since her return from Bahrain, all that she wanted was some peace and quiet.

"Today in school I had to apologize for something I didn't do," Skye told her.

"You're clearly not very smart," May said harshly. "If you didn't do it, then you had nothing to apologize about."

"Mr. Rivers made me to. I saw Johnny throwing up in Maggie's lunch box and when she complained to Mr. Rivers, Johnny said it was me because I've been sick but it wasn't me!"

'It's all over, we're moving forward' started circulating from person to person.

May sighed, relieved, and slowly pressed her foot on the gas pedal. "Get your feet inside, sit up, and fasten your seatbelt."

It was a long ride home, but it was quiet. May was still thinking over how much everything bothered her, no matter how petty it was. Once they arrived at the apartment, May walked to her bedroom and pushed two pills down her throat. Skye was still at the door, with the schoolbag on her back. She was hungry, but it was rare for May to cook. Four weeks had gone by since she had started living with her, so the girl quickly learned that if she wanted something, she'd have to get it herself. That woman wasn't the same one Skye had met before; there was something different about her, but she daren't ask. May was always grumpy, tired, and taking her prescribed pills.

Skye carelessly dropped the schoolbag in her bedroom and walked to the kitchen. She wanted something to eat, as she hadn't eaten since she left school, and that had been about three hours ago. She had been feeling sick lately, tired and weak. She walked over to the fridge and got out the milk, which thankfully hadn't expired yet. Dragging a chair over to the kitchen counter, Skye climbed on top of it and opened one of the cabinets. While tiptoeing on the chair to get a glass, her fingers slipped and it fell from her hands, shattering loudly on the floor. May would be so furious…

May was very strict with her, not giving her much room for jokes, keeping her on a tight schedule and teaching her that she had to be responsible. Coulson had been raising her gently, overprotecting her even, whereas May believed that Skye needed to be prepared for the world's worst. She had been through hell and, clearly, that was something she didn't want Skye to experience as well.

The agent rushed to the kitchen and found Skye picking up glass shards from the floor. She was going to reprimand her about being so careless, but her heart raced once she saw the girl's hands dripping with blood. Skye didn't appear to be in any pain, or at least she wasn't aware of it yet.

"I'm sorry," Skye mumbled without looking at May, desperately trying to pick up all the shards.

May stooped down and held her by the wrists. "Don't worry about it, drop it."

"But I-"

"It's okay," May reinforced, taking the small broken glass pieces from her hands.

Swiftly picking Skye up into her arms, May carried her to the bathroom and sat her on the countertop. The woman turned on the faucet and began to wash Skye's hands in the running water, letting the blood from the small cuts go down the drain. Skye got a glimpse of the old May in her gestures as she carefully wiped her hands with a towel; she was as concerned and gentle as she was before. May tended to all of her tiny cuts, putting a Band-Aid on each one of them.

May was stroking the back of Skye's hands with her thumbs as she held the girl's tiny hands. Guilt was slowly consuming her as she remembered how light Skye had felt when she picked her up. May then recalled what she had told her in the car; how she had been accused of vomiting in another kid's lunchbox because she had been feeling sick lately. Skye was probably getting ill because May wasn't taking good care of her, being completely unmotivated about her own life.

"I'm sorry I broke the glass, Melinda."

"It wasn't your fault, kiddo. Come on," May picked her up again and walked her to the kitchen. "Do you want to eat?"

Skye shrugged with a gloomy face. She wrapped her arms around May's neck and rested her head on her shoulder. With only one free hand, May was able to prepare Skye a toast with butter and warm up a glass of milk. However, Skye didn't want to leave May's cozy embrace, so she was forced to take a seat and sit Skye on her lap to get her to eat.

"Why don't you go and watch TV or play now?" May suggested once Skye finished her meal.

Skye slid down her lap and said, "I have homework to do."

May cleaned up the broken shards that were still on the floor before checking on her in her bedroom.

"Stupid pencil!" Skye mumbled, frustrated. The Band-Aids were restraining her movements and she couldn't hold the pencil in her hand.

"You can skip homework for today, Skye."

The girl looked at the door, finding May there, leaning against the doorframe, "I have to do homework, Mr. Rivers always checks it. And you always say I have to."

May walked over and closed the book, "I'll talk to your teacher tomorrow when I drop you off at school, don't worry."

"Why are you being nice?"

That question hurt May more than it should have. She had no answer for it and simply looked away, putting Skye's school supplies in her schoolbag.

"Sorry…" Skye spoke almost inaudibly, "I wasn't trying to be mean."

"I know."

* * *

Skye alighted the car, walked through the school's gate and went to play with her friends in the playground. May felt nervous. The last time she had interacted with people other than her coworkers had been seven months ago.

Once she saw the teacher Mr. Rivers, a casually-dressed man, May stepped out the car and intercepted him before he made his way inside the school. "Good morning," she very awkwardly began.

"Good morning," the man smiled. "May I help you?"

"I'm Skye's tutor," the agent stretched out her hand, "Melinda May,"

The teacher gave her a handshake while saying, "Oh yes, I apologize for not recognizing you but I'm really bad with faces."

"I… I just wanted to let you know that Skye didn't do homework because yesterday she broke a glass and has some cuts on her hands. I was hoping that you wouldn't insist much with her today…?"

"Sure, sure, I understand. But, I may ask, was it serious? The cuts on her fingers?"

"No, just small, superficial cuts, but there are many and I put a lot of Band-Aids on her fingers so she wouldn't be scared."

"Of course," Mr. Rivers said, offering a smile. "Well, if that's all, I'll… I'll get going."

"Yes, thank you for your time."

The man turned to leave, but May called him back again.

"Mr. Rivers, I'm sorry but…?"

The teacher promptly turned around, "Yes?"

"Skye told me about yesterday's incident, that she was accused of having thrown up in another kid's lunchbox."

"Don't worry about it. Yesterday, after class, John came to me and said it was his fault. He said he and some other boys decided to eat some bugs and then, obviously, felt ill. I'll have a talk with all of them first thing today and clear this all up, don't worry."

May nodded her head and walked back to the car. Once she sat back in the driver's seat, she exhaled through her mouth, running her fingers over her hair. After a short break to regain her confidence and stability, May realized she was being unfair to everybody.

She realized the only person to blame for her whole situation was herself.

Skye was helping her so much, helping her fight the quietness and routine of her life. She was so active and curious that it was impossible for May not to keep up with her and try to answer her questions and be there for her. The girl needed her guidance, depended on her, and that made May feel that she was useful for someone.

For May, in that moment, Fury could be compared to an angel, despite all of his flaws and mistakes. He didn't give up on her. He put her through a psychiatrist's appointment, denied her letter of dismissal and gave her another occupation at the agency. It meant that she was good at her job and that Fury wasn't ready to let go one of his best agents. May was now more confident in her capabilities again. After all, Fury even made her Skye's tutor, so not only did he trust her, but she was also really good at her job.

And Coulson… the poor man wasn't to blame of anything, May concluded. She was the one who pushed him away. She made him believe she was alright and asked him to leave. Coulson could never really read her face and know when she was telling a lie. He believed her; he thought she was really alright.

May grabbed her phone and hesitated before dialing the number.

"Good morning, this is Dr. Blake's office, how can I help you?"

"I'm Melinda May. I've been to one appointment with Dr. Blake…"

During the small pause that the receptionist took to look for May's file, the agent took time to breath in and out again.

"Yes, I have your file here. You're last appointment was… six months ago, correct?"

"Yes. I was wondering when I could have an appointment with him again…?"

"Uhm, tomorrow, actually. There was a dropout and I can schedule you for tomorrow, at 8 PM."

"I'll be there, thank you."

It was time to make use of those appointments and speak to the doctor.

* * *

**I think it's safe to say that Skye is already helping post-Bahrain May, right? There will be more to come, especially character development for both May and Skye. If you guys enjoyed it, leave a review.**

**Next chapter Skye turns seven. And I mean turns, not is. Curious to know how come May handles Skye's seventh birthday? **


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